


Call of the Beast

by ParadoxMage



Series: Shorts [17]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Comfort, F/F, Legends, One Shot, Short, Werewolves, Widowtracer
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-28
Updated: 2018-04-28
Packaged: 2019-04-28 20:00:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 912
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14456664
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ParadoxMage/pseuds/ParadoxMage
Summary: The night is dark, the moon is high, and there's a beast on the prowl.Even the most experienced hunters are afraid to venture out into the night.But not Lena.Because she knows who it is.





	Call of the Beast

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys. I wrote this one off a few weeks back when I was messing around online and found a post about an old werewolf legend. I'll list the legend in the end notes, because I think it's better to read this not knowing it before hand. If you want to know first feel free to scroll down, I'm not your mother.

“Lena! Stop! You can’t go out there, it’ll eat you alive!”

 

Lena shrugged him off, moving under the cover of the closely growing pines.

He did not follow her, fear holding his body from crossing the invisible boundary into the creatures turf.

Lena had no such fear.

 

Walking at a steady pace through the woods, she wove her way between a pair of evergreens whose branches had interlaced over time, around a rock split in two by the passage of a quiet stream that burbled within the crevice, and finally towards an ancient willow with a spreading canopy so dense that nothing was visible beneath its crown of leaves.

Lena slowly made her way to the edge of the willows overhang, settled herself on a fallen log a few feet away, and waited.

 

She did not have to wait long.

 

A howl split the night.

And another.

And another.

 

Closer.

And closer.

And closer.

 

She felt its presence before she saw it, could feel eyes staring at her, wondering who dared to approach its den and why they should not flee at the sight of it.

Lena turned slowly, carefully, no sudden movements.

Behind her, hackles raised, teeth bared in a snarl, was a wolf.

 

It, she, was a magnificent beast, a glorious testament to her race. She stood past Lena’s waist, each paw the size of a dinner plate from the inn, each fang gleaming like a dagger ready to rip out her throat and feed on the sap of her veins and the flesh of her body. The wolf’s form gleamed almost silver, the moonlight catching off her white coat and making her seem more like a metal statue then a living creature.

 

Most startling, beyond the creatures size was its - her - eyes. They were a beautiful gold, burning from beneath her heavy brow, framed in the shine of her white fur. There was intelligence in those eyes. Not human intelligence, far from it. Something much older, much darker, much more animal. This was a beast with the cunning of a man, who had no need to fear men because any trap or trick could be outthought, and no one could stand its sheer strength and power. She was the queen of the world, and she knew it.

 

Lena stared deep into those haunting eyes, doing what even the most experienced of hunters quailed to do.

The wolf raised a low growl, a test for this strange creature that looked like a man yet acted like no man she had ever met.

 

“Amélie,” said Lena, her voice a whisper.

 

The wolf shivered, a ripple of moonlight running across her coat. The growl changed, taking on a whining, more questioning tone.

 

“Amélie,” Lena said again, louder now, stronger now.

 

The wolf took a pace back. It looked at her, this little human who did not act accordingly, who was making noises that should not have meant something but did, noises that were not noises but a word, not a word but a name.

 

“Amélie, it’s time to come home. I need you.” said Lena, a hand raised in front of herself, as though she was reaching out to the eyes and warding off the beast that bore them.

 

The wolf took another step back, and another. The shiver happened again, now a continuous roll of her body, a shudder that racked her down to the marrow of her bones as something was called from the depths of her being, as someone began to turn away from the call of the beast inside them.

 

The wolf's legs gave way beneath her and she fell, still shaking. A pleading whine came from her mouth, the thought of trying to terrify this human now a distant memory. Lena stepped forward and placed a hand on her flank.

“It’s ok love, it’ll be over soon,” she said soothingly, gently stroking her hand along the wolfs side as it continued to shiver and cry out into the night.

 

Slowly, the fur began to shrink back into flesh, the paws expanded into hands, the thumb migrating back to down its proper place next to the slowly uncurling digits. The eyes did not change though, only growing smaller to fit properly into the face that was taking shape as the muzzle receded into a nose and mouth, still crying, though now the noises were human, not animal.

 

Lena hugged the naked woman who now sat on the forest floor crying into the dark hair that had sprung up on her head even as the silver coat receded, wrapping her arms around her as a sign of safety and comfort. The woman reciprocated, pulling Lena close, sobs still racking her body. Lena said nothing, merely holding her close and allowing her to cry as long as she needed.

 

After a long time, when the full moon had nearly touched the horizon and dawn was starting to color the wood, the woman spoke.

 

“Who did I hurt?” she asked, her voice still thick with tears. “Don’t lie, I remember someone getting too close, and I…” Fresh sobs threatened to overcome her and she broke the sentence off.

 

“Edward. He’s dead. There’s nothing you could’ve done, you know that.”

The woman, Amélie, shook her head, still buried in Lena’s shoulder.

 

“That doesn’t make it any easier.” Fresh tears began to spring up in her eyes.

 

“I know,” Lena said, holding her close as the new day broke around them.

 

“I know.”

**Author's Note:**

> Essentially the legend was that if someone who loved a turned werewolf called its name, they would recognize them and turn back into their human form.
> 
> I hope you guys enjoyed!


End file.
